The fragile bird
He sits in a corner and silently weeps,
He's trapped in a cage that's made of string,
Not knowing that he could just simply leave,
He circles his prison in pitiful sorrow,
Waiting for another same old morrow,
He looks out the window and miserably sighs,
As the beautiful birds outside flew by,
He dreamed that he was one of them in the sky,
Wished that he too could gracefully fly,
The fragile bird with broken glass for wings.